Short Story: No Salad

“You shoulda seen it”, Miranda started. “I mean I was just giving it to this little bitch. Just destroying this little bitch. And he fucking loved it. I mean, I don’t really care if he did or not – he needed it. He wanted it. And he had those jeans on – and a shirt. And it was kinda driving me wild. Or at least if I ever got in any shit that’s what I’d say. I was nailed anyway. And then he was.” She took a slug of her drink and spat some straight back out in a hearty guffaw.

“You’re bad!” Susan laughed. “You’re naughty…”

“Yeah”, Miranda swallowed the full shot this time, “but fuckit. He was asking for it. And he got it. I hit that target. And that’s that”.

“Well”, Maria chimed in, “it doesn’t sound entirely unlike my last Friday night. This little dickwad no-balls loser that I dragged home. He was all ‘not tonight’ and shit like that. Reckoned he had his kids to think of, or some shit. But fuck him! And I did! And his revolting back-hair just gave me something to hang on to. I was pulling it out in clumps I tell ya…”

“Wish you wouldn’t”, Lisa grinned. “But good for you though girl. You earned that. No doubt. I can’t remember when I last earned something like that – but I’ll snag some little piece later tonight, I reckon. Some grubby little no-good fucker. I’ll wait until he’s had two too many and then pounce. I’ll strap on and beat that dude like he owes me money”

“We’re telling war stories, girl”, Miranda explained. “Or should I say ‘wore-stories’”, and she flicked her fingers just behind her ears to make air-quotes, “you know – like who we ‘wore’ out recently…I was saying about that whiny little bitch I pummeled the other night. Total limp-dick nobody. That’ll fuckin’ teach him”.

“Oh right”, Donna beamed. “Well get this. Kevin comes around last night, texts, says he wants to ‘visit’ so I’m thinking: fuckin finally. He gets there, says he’s tired, just wants to watch TV and cuddle. Not. On. My. Watch. I grab his head and push it down hard. I tell him to eat it. Fuckin’ eat it. And I just hold the back of his head. Hard. And he does what he’s told. Good boy. Pretty boy. Dumb little cunt…hahahaha”

A high five across the table from Miranda. A wink and a raise of the glass from Susan.

Janet hadn’t said anything. She had just been listening. Taking it all in, as it were. Just as conversation was, finally, about to turn to something – anything – else Janet cleared her throat.

“Damian wasn’t interested, you know. Last time. So I just got hammered. I waited until he was nearly asleep and then I lubed him up, strapped on, had at him. I think he ended up rather enjoying it, but I don’t give a shit. Well, actually – that’s not true. Immediately after I went into the bathroom and I shat out something that looked like dog-roll. Same colour, same size. Fucking amazing!”

“Bullshit!” Donna stated.

“Well, nearly darlin’”, Janet cackled. “Fuckin’ nearly. But what it was – was goddamn impressive. It was massive. It hurt. It took ages. But it was bloody satisfying. And that’s to actually say ‘bloody’ and ‘satisfying’. I immediately felt fantastic. A ciggy, while Damian was fuckin whimpering about what happened or whatever…I dunno…”

“Jesus Christ”, Maria announced to the table, “you guys are fuckin’ crazy – all of you. But especially you!” And though she pointed first at Janet she ran her finger around the circle to include all of them, eventually finishing back at herself and curving the finger back, then stabbing it into her own chest. “Fuckin’ crazy cunts!”

There was a huge braying noise from the table. They all whistled and cheered and howled as if a pack. And then Miranda ripped open Lisa’s top at the table and pushed her head in between her boobs and started sucking and kissing, shaking her head back and forward. “Here’s to us!” Lisa shrieked.

“Fuck yeah!” Donna smashed a bottle on the table right as she said this. Then another. And another. Screaming ‘fuck yeah’ again. And then once more.